Alfred 2: And The Underworld (Alfred the Boy King)

by Ron Smorynski

  Loranna chuckled, which made her mad from guilt. It was a serious, sad revelation that Alfred merely covered over in humor.

  “Or get crushed by ogres.”

  Loranna punched Alfred's shoulder.

  “Or blown up by cannons!”

  “Alfred!”

  They began their long journey down the tunnels.

  “Or chewed into pieces by war dogs!” Alfred said.

  “Ugh! That would be appropriate!”

  “Are they dogs? I couldn't tell.”

  “I'm not sure... giant rabbits?” Loranna considered.

  “Rabbits?!”

  “Their ears???”

  A small goblin watched them as they faded down the tunnel. He looked at all the dead goblins and decided he would chance his fate with the ogres. He hurried back to the Hall and saw the ogres sitting on top of piles of rubble and crushed wood. The lone little goblin pranced out.

  “I cum bakz,” it said, bowing.

  “Yarhz, we seez dat skrawni. Wid whut?” An ogre sharpened his blade with a piece of stone rubble.

  “Dey killz goblinz like mi, lotz,” the goblin said.

  The ogres looked at each other and sniffed contempt.

  “So, I cumz bak, not killed, not deadzy... zo I kan zay dayz a boy annd girlz, two humy... getz awayz!” The goblin groveled on the ground.

  The ogre blade lowered close to the goblin and then rose. The goblin awaited the inevitable.

  “Guhd. We knowz. Guhd gobby.” The ogres got up and rambled out of the hall. The goblin quivered as he got up and hurried along.

  Chapter Thirty-Five: OGRES!!!

  “WHAAHHHRRR!” The War Chieftain smacked and punched one of the smaller ogres. “Humiez got awayz?! A boyz? A girlzz?”

  He was breathing hard as he looked at the gathering ogres. He picked up a large stone and threw it against the wall. It was as explosive and as powerful as a cannon shot. It shook the smaller ogres. The War Chieftain was definitely the right ogre for the job of brutal leader.

  “Duh BOY KING iz whyy weez' HERE! GRRRRAAAHHH!!!!” Everything shook as if there was a low rumbling earthquake.

  He turned to look at the captives. His dark beady eyes stopped on Abedeyan, who shrank and cowered smaller than he already was. The Chieftain lumbered over and motioned for him. The hobgoblins hurriedly unchained him and brought him forth. The Chieftain picked him up, less roughly than he did Dunther. Even the ogre could tell when a slave was particularly fragile.

  “Yuzzz takez my ograhz tu duh minez!” the Chieftain growled at Abedeyan, who shook uncontrollably.

  The ogres all leaped and jumped in furious gorilla fashion, bounding up and down and slamming their weapons on the rubble.

  The War Chief turned to his ogre brethren, “Grog, Bog, Dog, Mog, Gruel... goz und takez dis minez and brig bakz duh boyz king!!”

  The ogres bounced their meaty limbs up and down and hurried over to two of the war wagons, these were squat and thickset with many spikes. They had open tops and were meant for troop transport. The five ogres easily got into their respective wagons. They had plenty of room to load in whatever they wished. Many smaller goblins scrambled onto the wagons, swarming around and chitter-chattering in their own way, ready to serve the ogres in the attack. Several cannons were thrown into the war wagons as well as barrels of black powder. A few goblins were crushed in the process with neither ogres or goblins showing any remorse for the loss. One wagon was led by two oxen-like beasts, while the other had a triceratops dragon.

  “Goblin ryderz raze duh landz! Bringz me bak puny humyz!” the War Chief yelled. The hobgoblins, in their own pitiful pride, jumped and barked and squealed for joy. They leapt on their hyenas and headed out to pillage and raze farms.

  The Chieftain placed Abedeyan in a wagon with the ogres. He was a very, very small, teeny-tiny frail figure sitting on the driver's bench between two behemoth ogres.

  “Keepz'im alive!” the Chieftain rumbled, pushing his thick finger at the ogres and slapping their faces to make sure they knew he wanted the litter critter, Abedeyan, kept alive. “Leadz'em tu duh minez!” he hissed, bending close to Abedeyan who shuddered.

  Grog, the largest ogre of the small attack force, stood up on the wagon and waved, “Tuh duh minez!”

  The ogres grunted, the goblins cackled, and the oxen and triple-horned dragon bellowed forth deep wails as they began their march to the minez... mines.

  Chapter Thirty-Six: The Massacre

  The mounted hobgoblins raced ahead of the ogre wagons, along the slopes, spreading far and wide. They converged on farms and hacked through doors, looking for 'humies'. They ran in and out of barns, sniffing and searching. They became frustrated as they found none of the families and farmers anywhere.

  Finally, the barks of hyenas alerted the rest that humans had been found. From all directions, across fields and gullies and knolls, the hobgoblins swarmed toward the howls.

  Several ran around, encircling the farmers’ wagons as they barked and growled. The farmers huddled together in fear while the hobgoblins gathered enough numbers to charge. There were three farm wagons set up like a triangle for protection. The hobgoblins noticed the puny humans attempt to defend themselves, and they laughed maniacally. When enough hobgoblins had collected, the largest one took the lead. He barked and howled as they grouped for the charge.

  The hyenas raced up the slope towards the wagons parked on the hill. The hobgoblin leader, in plate armour, noticed one of the wagon riders stand. He growled greedily to himself. The defenseless farmer seemed odd, he put on a steel helmet not unlike a knight's helm. The farmer unclasped his tattered robe and revealed armour underneath. That was no farmer! It was a knight! This enraged the hobgoblin more as he spurred his bestial mount. As they reached a hundred yards from the wagons, the knight in armour yanked a rope, and the canvases on the wagons were pulled back to reveal a score of small girly archers.

  “Fire!” shouted Sir Murith, raising his quite dangerous sword.

  Arrows flew in a shower, immediately dropping several hyenas and riders.

  “Farmers fire!” Sir Murith yelled.

  Several dads and moms unleashed their arrows, which dropped another hyena.

  The hobgoblins were stunned at their predicament. However, they couldn't help themselves. Their bloodlust kept them going.

  They were very near now, so the girls on the wagons kept firing arrow after arrow, tumbling hyenas and pinning hobgoblins. Then small boys suddenly appeared. Cory, Wilden and the boys quickly set up the spear wall, poking out from the wagons. The momentum of hyenas and their riders met the piercing walls of spears which, as you can imagine, not only stopped their charge but their breathing as well. More importantly, it ended their evil wicked ways.

  Some boys were thrown back by one of the hyena’s charging. They slammed against the wagon's other side or against the girl archers, but they recovered quickly – only to see a wide-eyed dead creature falling against their wagon. The hobgoblin rider with thick plated oriental armour jumped off.

  Murith charged the mighty hobgoblin, leaping from the wagon. Though the tough hobgoblin had been hit by several arrows through his armour, he was still coming at them. Murith knew that if this hobgoblin got to the children, many would get hurt. Setheyna waved for the girls to stop firing at the leader for fear of hitting Murith. She redirected them toward fleeing hobgoblins, who gulped as the arrows flew at them.

  Murith met the big hobgoblin in a clash of steel. The hobgoblin was larger and furious. Murith had to take each heavy swing deftly, roll or flow with it, and then use that momentum to bring his own sword about to attack. It was a difficult affair to find the right opening in the hobgoblin's armour. He finally noticed a well stuck arrow in its back. This was his opportunity. He grabbed it and pulled himself behind the off-balanced hobgoblin, finding a soft spot for his sword.

  After the hobgoblin fell, Murith quickly turned to fight off any others. He saw that they were all dead. He ran up to the wagons, bre
athing hard. “Is anyone hurt?” They all gave thumbs up and were plucking arrows or pulling spears from the dead hyenas.

  “Can we eat them?” Wilden asked. Others giggled. Then they pondered the notion themselves.

  “Quickly, boys and girls, get your arrows and let's move!” Sir Murith got the ponies and mules hooked back up to the wagons again. “Try leaving me something to fight next time.” He winked at the children.

  They hurried the wagons along the road, gathering up any farmers who were fleeing. Several farmers climbed in and screamed.

  “What's this?” a scared farmer blurted.

  The dead hyena wasn't the most comforting of sights.

  “We ain't gonna get meat like this for some time,” another farmer answered. “We thought we better make the most of it!” Some of the kids sat on the dead furry beast because it was a more comfortable ride.

  They saw other hobgoblins on hyenas racing about but no large group.

  One farmer on his trusted ginormous pig, Suzie Pee, met the wagons. “Hey Sir Murith! I spotted some big mean'ole ogres on a big mean'ole wagon, I did!”

  “What's that?” Sir Murith wondered, peering at the pig farmer who sat bopping atop his trusted galloping Suzie Pee.

  “Hello Suzie Pee!” the boys and girls waved. Suzie Pee gave out a big snort.

  “I says, big'ole mean ogre wagons is coming this way! And it looks as if they got a wee small human betwixt them. Though methinks the human is relatively my size, though betwixt two massive ginormous ogres. The relativeness makes the man a wee much smaller looking, if you catch my meaning.”

  “You say they're coming this way?”

  “They're a half day back by the looks of that slogging wagon. They’d probably gets to the mines about, oh, dinner time methinks.”

  “How do they know where the mines are?” Sir Murith said angrily.

  “Led, I'm presuming, by the scaredest of small creatures in stature mankind amongst ogrekind,” the farmer said.

  “So a man is leading them to the mines! A traitor!” Murith hissed.

  “Oh now, doesn't do good to judge a wee bit small man stuck betwixt two killer mangy ogres known to be brutal at their kindest!”

  “It's one of ours for sure!” Niranna sighed. “Scared and knowing what they’re doing, forced to betray us all. We have to save him!”

  “What?” huffed Sir Murith. “No! We have to get to the mines and get everyone inside!”

  “We're going to fight them, right?!” Niranna asked. “And save that poor man?”

  Sir Murith grimaced and yanked hard on the reins to get the ponies moving.

  “Alright then, I'll see you at the mines,” the farmer on Suzie Pee hollered. “I'll give'em a heads up or two!” He smacked the pig's rear, and it speed off, much to Sir Murith's surprise.

  Sir Murith was quite frustrated at their slow pace. He knew they were making good time and had defeated probably the worst of the hobgoblin raiders. He just wasn't sure if all the farmers had gotten word to evacuate to the mines.

  An old farmer and his wife, who rode a sizable mule, met their wagons at a crossroad. Sir Murith gazed at the mule.

  “Give me that steed now!” he demanded.

  The farmer replied in earnest, “Sir Murith, you will never have to demand from me anything. I will gladly give my prized pony to you. You have risked neck and soul for all of us. And I know you do so even now!”

  Sir Murith choked on his own impatience. As he leapt upon the mule and got ready to race off to see who may have been left behind, he noticed all eyes looking at him.

  “Get to the mines, quick! I'm going back to the farms!”

  They all nodded. One girl began praying. He turned away when some dust caught in his eye and made it swell with moisture. Oh that bothersome dust!

  Murith raced off, heading toward the distant bark of hyenas. His greatest fear was not making it in time. He would rather that the farmers die with a knight at their side than alone.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Flight

  Setheyna and Niranna kept the girls on watch as the farmers and spearboys drove the wagons. The rest huddled in the wagons while the girls stood well balanced, ready with bows and arrows.

  Thankfully, they were far enough along that the mayhem of barking hyenas was behind them. The mines were just beyond the slopes of the pastures and up some hill country.

  Sir Murith pushed the mule through forest groves scattered amongst the pastures and small fields. The sun was setting, and he knew the hobgoblins would have an advantage in the dark. A few outlying farms were dotted through these woods. Would the farmers there have known and fled to the mines? He was not sure.

  The barking continued as Murith neared a farm. The family must still be alive if the hyenas barked with such ferocity. He could see a pillar of smoke through the trees. Were they burning farmers in their homes? Murith pushed the harsh-breathing mule, kicking and tussling it forward.

  Flames glowed brighter as the woods and pastures darkened from the long shadows of a setting sun. Murith gritted his teeth. He would fight in darkness to the death if he had to. He now understood what it meant to be a knight, truly, for the people.

  As fortune would have it, he came upon three hobgoblins that had stupidly dismounted. They were howling in glee and swinging torches and clubs, dancing to a fire that was burning a farmstead. The hyenas crouched at a distance, away from the fire. Not being mounted, they were no threat to a charging knight. The crackling of the fire hid the sound of his charge. He burst through the trees, sword pointed at the oblivious hobgoblins. He beheaded one and drove his mule into another. The mule kept steady as the hobgoblin flew into the fire. The third turned, stunned at the sudden strike, and tried to flee.

  Murith ably controlled the mule and chased after the hobgoblin, dispensing it as it tried to mount its angry and confused hyena. Murith yelled as he grabbed up torches and swung them to disperse the hyenas. They fled into the night.

  He quickly rushed over to the farm, kicking open the door. Weakened by smoke inhalation, a young farmer and his wife with an infant lay at the door. The farmer held a rake, ready to attack the hobgoblins if they entered. It appeared they were ready to die rather than be taken by slave raiders.

  Murith smacked away the rake with his sword and pulled them out onto open ground and the night air. Flames finally engulfed the whole of the farm. They lay in the dirt and filth, watching as their farm and home collapsed in the immolation.

  They breathed in the cool clean air. The baby, deathly pail, suddenly gasped in the air and cried from sheer exhaustion as the young mother hugged her, crying no more from despair but from hope. The young farmer leapt upon the seated knight, who at first reacted defensively. He heard the cries of gratitude and realized it was just a hug. He returned the hug as best he could.

  The wagons were traversing the bumpy country path up to the mines. As they ascended the gradual slopes, they could see the dark spread of the land below. The sky, not yet fully black, had a dark blue hue from the stars that began to sparkle across the vast expanse. Behind them, they could clearly see the impressive torches the ogres placed on their war wagons. The flames were as large as humans. The torches were large black metal tubes filled with burning animal fat and crowned with metal spikes encasing the furious flames.

  They burned well and bright. Glaring oranges and reds illuminated the spiked war wagons, their dragon beasts and the brutal ogres. The two wagons moved rather quickly through the terrain. The beasts were methodical and unperturbed by the rough hewn path.

  “Beasts! They're coming!” Setheyna pointed below. All the children stood up, precariously, on the wagons to see. Gasps spread amongst them, and cries punctuated a sudden surge of panic. The farmers yanked their reins harder, but the ponies did not have the strength to pull the heavy load.

  “All yee men and boys, get off. You’ll do much better on foot now!” a driver yelled. The boys and men leapt off the wagons. They rolled the dead hyena off. No time for f
easts. They hurried alongside as the ponies pulled slightly better. Fear rose in them. They couldn't help but shake and quiver with each movement. The sense of something huge and horrible, methodical and unrelenting, following them, drained their spirits.

  They could see the campfires above, lighting the mine's entrance and slopes of the hills. They hurried forward.

  As they reached the encampment, no one was there. The girls, the old couple, and the drivers leapt from the wagons. The farmers carefully unbridled their ponies and feared the worst for them. They argued on what to do with them: let them go or bring them into the dangerous mines.

  “Oh shuddup, you stupid farmers!” a gruff voice hissed from the dark opening of the mine. Hedor rushed out to the farmers and immediately threw off the ponies reins and smacked and yelled for them to leave. The farmers stared in sadness as their loyal ponies fled.

  “Come on, into the mines!” Hedor waved them all in. “There's plenty of time!”

  Just when he said that, as they were crowding around the entrance, a loud BOOM cracked the distant air like fine-tuned thunder. They all ducked, having never heard such a powerful, shuddering noise.

  It happened in split seconds. Their hearts began to race and their senses became heightened. They could hear the slow motion whistle of an iron ball spinning furiously up and then falling toward them from a great distance.

  Hedor looked up to see an iron ball the size of his fist, slam into the hillside just above their heads. It missed them. The explosive rock and debris that showered them brought screams of pain and shock immediately into their midst.

  Hedor fell to the ground with ringing in his ears that made it sound as if he were several rock walls away from the horrid cries and screams. It threw his equilibrium off. He tried to raise himself, but unbalanced, he fell back down several times. He focused on the spittle coming from his moistened lips. It made him realize he was in shock. He gritted his teeth and knew he had to move.

  He stood up and looked back in panic at the mine's entrance. Rock debris and large boulders lay there, but it was not blocked off! Thank the Father, whoever he was! He had to move the sprawled children and farmers, covered in dust and pebbles. “Move! Everyone!! Move!!!”